Motherhood, so far...

 To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore.  Jude 24-25

We live in a broken, fallen world. Every day, I wake up and struggle with that. As a wife and mother, most days I wrestle with feeling overwhelmed by my daily tasks. Sleep doesn’t feel restful, because there is too much to be done, and when I actually close my eyes it seems brief.

10 months ago, I became a mommy. It was—apart from marriage—the most sobering transition I’ve faced so far. I carried this tiny baby in my womb, and suddenly, she’s out in the world and we are magically parents. Did this mean I would know how to meet her needs? Not necessarily. I had to figure it out. I’ve always found it comical that you are allowed to take the baby home a few days post-birth. Like I’m supposed to know how to care for a tiny little human?!:)

This entire [almost] year of my daughter’s life has been a whirlwind. I have loved every minute—even the messy, disorganized, smelly ones. But, some days, admittedly, I feel like I am barely surviving…barely hanging on by the thread of my last cup of [insert caffeine-infused drink here].  A few days ago, upon my recent realization of this, I cried out to the Lord,

Father, I want to do this well. Show me. I don’t want to feel drained of energy constantly, and discouraged because I’m not giving my best to you and my family. Help.

This past month I have felt weighed down by exhaustion. It seems that sleep, exercise, water, clean eating, etc. doesn’t change that. I have felt drowned by fatigue, which spirals into discouragement because nothing seems to work. Have you been there?

In a [rare] quiet moment this morning, He whispered,

I am here. I am for you. I love you. I am holding you. In every season, in every transition, whatever the circumstance, I do not change. Embrace my fearless love. Rest in my unchanging ways. Cling to me as your hope. And remember that in everything, I am God. I am in control. You are not meant to merely survive. Run to me each morning. Lay your burdens on me; I can handle it. In doing that, you will flourish.

Beloved friends, do not lose heart! Wherever you are this morning, however you feel, whatever you face, stop and take a moment to meditate on His radical love. Repeat the words above to your heart. Yes, staying at home seems daunting for me sometimes, but that in itself is beautiful! It compels me to come flat on my face before the Throne of Grace every morning.  God has created me for these people and this purpose. The end result: HIS GLORY. I will reflect HIS IMAGE!

Other helpful avenues of encouragement:

1.      1.  Seek out community. God has not called you to live out this purpose alone. Find a friend or a group of friends to walk alongside and pray with you. It helps, I promise. Plus, you’ll meet some totally awesome people. God has blessed my family with some wonderful friends who have become like family through our church and Bible study group! Man, I sure am thankful. Because of them, I feel a little LESS crazy :)

2.      2.  Pray. By yourself. With another woman. Both. You will be reminded of what God is doing and how to continue praying to that end. Plus, you’ll become more aware of your daily need for Him.

3.    3.    Memorize the Word. Find a passage to claim over this situation and know. Chew on it daily until it is burned in your mind. That way, when the Enemy tries to attack, you can fight him with your personal promise from the Lord.

4.      4.  Pour out. For me personally, when the hard days come, I ask the Lord for opportunities to serve Him—whether through checking in on a friend, writing a note, making a care package for someone, etc. I’m learning there are many ways to creatively love people even when you’re tied down by an infant schedule. J Psalm 126:6 promises that God will bless us when we pour out on the dark days.

5.      5.  Be vulnerable. Share your struggles. The more open and honest you are with others about how you have been challenged, the more opportunities you have to share about what God has done! You’ll be surprised to learn that you’re not alone.

What about you? What is your calling today? In this season of life? Who are your “people”? What is your burden? Surrender it to the Father.

He is more than able to keep you from falling…

Hard Mommy Days: Musings on Mary

courtesy:  Jill Greenberg

Today would be classified as a "Hard Mommy Day". One of my first, and most assuredly not one of my last. VULNERABILITY WARNING: I'm sitting here crying over my open Bible and a glass of white wine. I am tired. So. tired. I even managed to nap today...but these dark circles under my eyes won't lie.

Daddy was gone, to begin with(can YOU guess that reference?).  That always complicates my day when there are errands involved. What could have been a highly productive day was completely sabotaged by my not-so-productive child (how dare she?!). I barely managed to make my Saturday morning coffee study(mind you, we were a whopping thirty minutes late). And Rosebud--though happy and typically quite joyful--couldn't survive very long past breakfast. It was naptime. She was tired and wanted to curl up in her warm, comfortable crib. But Mommy wanted to visit, and so we stayed, all the while rocking and swaying with a fuzzy blanket. Eventually she fell asleep and the momentary quiet came. I was thankful. I managed to make it through the first portion of my errands unscathed, but then the child stirred and my outing was thwarted. My child is phenomenally patient, though, and entertained herself well with her surroundings. But when her patience wore thin, she informed me--quite loudly, I might add. And soon, I was in the checkout line hastily rummaging through my items. We made it home and naptime ensued. Once again, my quiet came. I'm learning to lean into those moments because they're so rare.

Later, we strolled to the mall to meet up with a friend. Seems innocent enough, right? Rosebud was clean, full and happy. There were a few whiney moments spattered into our outing, but overall, she was carefree...until J. Crew. I'll have you know that store is not  stroller conducive. We got stuck several times, and I received some choice looks for even attempting to stroller shop in the store. But who says Mommy can't be fashionable? Oh, right. J. Crew. Because when you become a mom your sense of fashion flies out the window with your brain( okay, maybe I DO prefer yoga pants and a tank top, but STILL). I don't think it's intentional, because I noticed another stroller. I silently acknowledged my comrade and congratulated him for persevering through the tiny crevice that is that store. I did everything in my power to ensure the babe was content, but nothing worked. I tried to placate her with toys, but she got bored. When we began strolling around(unsuccessfully), the waterworks started.

Cue: Meltdown #1

It was deafening. And--had I not been used to the wails--I might have been embarrassed. My friend's enduring patience is a testament to who she is. When Rosebud cried incessantly in the men's section, she entertained her. When I apologized for having such a verbal, alert child, she assured me that Rosebud's motor skills are top-knotch. I'm forever grateful for friends like that.

But our efforts were wasted. The babe won. And amazingly, I felt overwhelmed with compassion on my little bean. She can't help that she's so tiny and dependent. It's not her fault she didn't come into the world as an adult. And besides, I concluded on the way home, it's nice to be needed. Our stroll back to the house was again peaceful. I laughed at the thought that 5 minutes prior, my kid was screaming. But she needs structure. She needs her bed. I was thankful for the means to provide just that.

When she slept, so did I. We didn't wake up until our tummies reminded us to eat. Since it had been a hard afternoon, I rewarded us with a trip to our favorite place: Trader Joe's. We strolled across the street to purchase dinner[and Sunday lunch]. We were both pleasantly bundled and enjoying the crisp air...and then we reached the store.

Cue: meltdown #2

We made it about halfway through my small list, when Rosebud again started to cry. Thankfully, the TJs people are about as non-judgmental as you can get, so I wasn't really shaken. But the exhaustion hit. And, I too, wanted to join my child. Almost out of nowhere, a woman approached me. She complimented my daughter and began speaking to her. Instant calm(on both fronts). Rosebud marveled at this woman. So did I. She was so kind. We talked for some time,

You're a good mommy. She's going to be better because you're with her. Don't forget that. You rest when she does. You have the rest of your life to do housework. Just love her. You're doing a great job.

I call her my Christmas Angel. She must have seen the exhaustion on my face. She must have remembered feeling that way herself. Oh, what a blessing she'll never know she was.

When we returned home, I felt thankful. I quickly fed my daughter and laid her down, then began my dinner. A few minutes into the evolution, I smelled plastic--melted plastic. I had accidentally turned on the wrong stove eye, and some of my baby's bottles were burning. By the time I got to the wreckage, they looked about as hopeful as Frosty on the 4th of July. It was pathetic.

Cue: meltdown #3

I quickly aerated the house; opening doors and windows all over. The smell left quickly. The baby was fine. But...what a mess. Oh, what a mess. I tearfully scraped the bottom of our gumbo pot, thankful it wasn't ruined.

As I write this now, shivering in my detoxed home, I can't help but remember Mary.

I am the Lord's servant.

She couldn't have known about meltdowns, right? Or about the complexities of pregnancy and delivery? And the intensity of the situation just must not have bothered her, you know?

No. She was fully aware of the context. And she had probably spent time with babies. But she still gratefully accepted her role.

I love Mary. I've always thought she was so honest. She wasn't afraid to ask Gabriel how things would play out. But when he responded with, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you..."(Luke 2:35) she questioned no further, but instead chose to trust.

I am the Lord's servant.

She said "yes" to this inconceivable, scandalous miracle. She said "yes" to the way her 14-year old body would soon change. She said "yes" to the grubby, joyful, chaotic role of motherhood; to serving unselfishly and daily dying to herself with (seemingly) little return for your labor.

She did it for her King.

Today--and everyday-- I am going to strive to be like Mary. Not because she's awesome, but because God is. He is worthy of my life---my service, my love, and my wholehearted devotion--even when my current role feels discouraging sometimes.

I am thankful for:
My servant-hearted husband( if he didn't love and serve us so well, days like this wouldn't feel so overwhelming without him). My understanding mall buddy. Naps. Compliant, smiling Trader Joe's shoppers. My Christmas Angel. A sense of smell(to catch those bottles!). My warm bed. Tonight's yummy dinner. My patient, active, joyful daughter. My opportunity to be a wife and mother.

But, most of all, I am thankful for Christ.

I am the Lord's servant whatever the day, whatever the role.

Babies Don't Keep

Almost two months ago [what?!] I became a mommy. Truthfully, If you've ever been pregnant, you[like me] probably counted yourself a mom the day you found out. But 6 weeks and 6 days ago[at 1:58 am...oof] I had physical proof lying bundled in my arms. And three days later, our new little family was discharged and sent home[can you believe they let you take them so fresh and shiny?]

And 3 weeks ago, we had our first bout of infant constipation. It was one of the most traumatic days of my life. I'm not sharing this with you because you find my daughter's bowels interesting[I know you don't] I'm sharing this with you because it's my life. Her face was red, crinkled in pain. And when she screamed for the first time since birth, I cried. For whatever reason, her colon just wasn't working that day. She was stopped up[I think you get it].  And after exhausting every natural option, I realized I could do nothing about it[I'm not into suppositories]. All I could do was love her and pray over her tummy.

It had been a long day, and Daddy came home that evening. I was relieved thinking, maybe he has some magic voo-doo that I don't and the problem will disappear. Between screams In the midst of trying to remedy the situation, tensions rose. We were both exhausted and felt helpless. I'm typing this in laughter now, because who ever knew I could get so worked up over my baby's poop routine? Not me. But I did.  And my poor, tired, only-trying-to-help husband received the brunt of the day's frustrations. 

There is a poem I've heard since I entered motherhood. One of the lines has been streaming through my brain since the baby came:

Settle down, cobwebs. Dust, go to sleep. I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep. 

 The basic sentiment: cherish each and every moment with your children because it doesn't last forever; they grow up. 

As I was crawling into the shower after the longest day of my life, I had a revelation: 

Babies don't keep...

But marriage does.

Yes, it is vital to be in the moment with my little girl, but am I doing the same with my husband?

In twenty years(Lord-willing) baby girl will be an adult. She will be out of the house and (once the other currently fictitious children leave) I will be alone with my husband. What will our relationship look like then? My prayer is that our faith will be stronger, and our love[both for God and each other] will be deeper. If that is the case, we will be excited to start a new chapter of life together. We won't be strangers who fell in love in the distant past--we will still be madly, head-over-heels, gaga for each other!

After my shower, I returned to the nursery. My husband was still faithfully rocking our daughter in his arms. I gave him a kiss as a personal reminder of my recent revelation.

Yes, babies don't keep. But if I'm so focused on wishing my child wouldn't grow, I would miss everything. Don't get me wrong, I still think she's growing entirely too fast, and I wish I could freeze time every so often. But I've got to remind myself to look at what's in front of me and give thanks. 

My first priority is to my husband. Our relationship is ordained by God. I am called to love him first, to serve him first and to consider him first. I must cherish him.  My baby's needs are so obvious and [sometimes] so easily met. I can quickly be consumed with diaper changes, warm bubble baths and story time. But even a mere, I love you, in between/during the daily grind makes all the difference in the world. Plus, it reminds my husband that he is first. If I'm not pursuing that relationship [after my relationship with the Lord] then we will grow apart and God will not be honored. 

I feel like I take an eternity to hash out my thoughts. But that is the purpose of this blog. It exists solely for my sanity and I don't actually know how many people read it. If you do, thank you for entertaining my musings. My prayer is that you feel encouraged and challenged the way I have been. 

Now the line, babies don't keep won't simply be my reminder to snuggle my daughter, but to engage her daddy pre-snuggle. And together, as God wills, we will grow. That way when we're old and crochety, we will still be laughing, crying and moving forward in love. 

PS: If you've seen Gilmore Girls, you'll understand the following reference-- 

The scene at Rory's Chilton graduation where Brad sings,"Cherish" has been running through my mind while writing this post! 

UPDATE: in case you were wondering, we figured out the poop problem. Baby girl is happy and healthy in her routine. 😂😉 Every time she smiles I have to keep my eyes from welling up. Oy, motherhood!